Page 16 of A Brighter Yellow
“Does it?”
“Well, I’m not going to have to slow walk you through genetics for one thing. Especially since that’s not really my field. I graduated in Art History. Although, come to think of it, that is how all of this got started. I wanted to read my grandmother’s journals. Medieval English is not the easiest to decipher.”
“I wouldn’t even know how,” said Ochre, looking amused, and Anna blushed. He probably thought she was an idiot.
“My point is that Charlie’s the lab portion of this operation.”
“And, let me guess – you’re fieldwork?” asked Ochre. Anna nodded. “Fieldwork doing what, though?”
“Well, you see, the thing is… A while ago, I started doing pack visits. A lot of them.” She didn’t add that it had started as a way to cover up the fact that she was going to visit Liam. “And that’s when I realized that there aren’t enough wolves. And there really aren’t enough female wolves. I’m one of the few doing pack visits, so I’m one of the few who’ve noticed the pattern. And as one of the even fewer women doing visits, I started to get a lot of attention. Veryintenseattention. People are starting to get desperate.”
She didn’t want to explain that some of her visits had nearly come to blows when she’d wanted to leave and some of the packs had wanted her very much to stay. She felt like it made the wolves sound bad and she didn’t want Ochre judging them. She also didn’t want to say that her visits had led her to the disheartening conclusion that her fated mate was not to be found among the wolves of North America. There had been plenty of offers for a child alliance, but after feeling the loss of her mother like a stinging personal rebuke, she preferred to have no children than to produce children that way. It was one of the reasons she had been so excited about Liam. It had seemed like destiny. Only it wasn’t.
“It’s like that all over,” said Ochre. “Supernaturals have never bred very rapidly.”
“But we used to supplement with humans,” said Anna, relieved that he understood. “I’ve got loads of proof on that from my grandmother’s journals. It used to be that wolves could find their mate with humans and the human’s aging cycle slowed down so that the human could stay with their fated mate. The children always came out as wolves and everyone was happy. But not anymore. And no one knows why. And then, five years ago, I met Charlie.”
“And he’s a biologist.”
“Sheis a witch and a biologist.” Anna watched Ochre and waited for some sort of comment.
“OK,” said Ochre with a shrug and also a tiny smile that she couldn’t interpret.
“A lot of people have trouble with that,” said Anna.
“A lot of people don’t have a science degree and a sister who is a witch,” said Ochre.
“Oh, right. Anyway, Charlie has formed a theory that humans could no longer breed with us because of a chemical shift.”
“That’s my theory!” Ochre stood up straighter. “I swear it’s the pesticides and micro-plastics!”
Anna blinked in surprise. She couldn’t believe anyone else had been thinking about the problem.
“Well, it turns out the shift happened before plastics actually. It’s more tied to colonialism. Charlie thinks it’s a spell.”
“What? No! Really? Can we call Charlie?”
“I just tried,” said Anna, holding up the phone. “No answer. No messages. None since before I left for Montana.”
“Shit,” said Ochre.
“Charlie thinks it’s a spell with a bacterial component. Like a fungal infection. She thinks it’s warlock magic.”
“Shit,” repeated Ochre, his tone shifting to surprise.
“She’s been studying the problem since she was at school—seven or eight years ago. Then about five years ago, we met when I was looking into some spell casting. When I understood what she was working on, I realized that we needed more information on warlocks. Charlie is friends with another wolf who has been getting her uncontaminated genetic samples from wolf remains. But she didn’t have any warlock samples. So I figured that’s what I could do.”
She paused to see if he was with her so far. She wondered if she should spell out that she’d been getting live warlock samples not digging up dead warlocks. He had his hands shoved in his back pockets and a thoughtful frown on his face. His blond hair was tousled from his climb up the tower. She rather liked it like that. She hadn’t made up her mind on whether or not she missed the beard.
“What have you found out about warlocks?” he asked. He absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair and then tugged at it as if checking to see if it was still there.
“Lots of unpleasant things. I started out picking up a few genetic samples, but Charlie and I realized that, like witches, they’re mostly just human and what we need was to figure out what was different about their magic. Which was harder to do. But eventually I found out that when they start a new temple, they get a delivery from one of the established temples. There aren’t any temples around here anymore, so I’ve been traveling out west. I tell Dad I’m going wherever and go warlock hunting. It’s taken me a bit of time, too much beer, and definitely too much flirting with the worst smelling humans ever to figure out the system. If your temple is cool, or whatever, then the stuff that you get is from an older temple—older is better. The Warlocks Motorcycle Club is usually in charge of the delivery.”
Ochre made a disgusted face, but nodded, clearly familiar with the motorcycle gang. Anna was relieved that he was taking in all of this so easily.
“Well, I finally figured out that what they get is some piece of magic gunk,” Anna continued. “Each temple has one, and it has to be fed on prayers, tears, and blood.”
“Lovely,” said Ochre, making a face. “It’s like the sourdough starter of evil.”
